Daily Yellowstone journal. [volume] (Miles City, Mont.) 1882-1893, 1887-07-24
INGERsOLL ON BEECHER.
A Magnificent Tribute by the Prince of
Word Painters,

Word Painters.
Henry Ward Beecher was born In a
Puritan century, Of which his father
was one Of the wsrdens-a prison with
very narrow and closely grated win
dows. Under its walls were the ray
less, hopeless, and measureless dun.
geons of the damned, and on its roof
fell the shadows Of Gods eternal
frown. In this prison the creed and
catechism were primers for children,
and from pure sense Of duty their
loving hearts were stained and Scared
with the religion OF John Calvin.
Life was robbed Of its spring, its
summer and It's autumn. Children
stepped from the cradle into the snow.
No laughter, no sunshine, no Joyous,
free, unburdened days. God, an in.
finite detective, watched them from
above, and Satan, with malicious leer
was waiting for their souls below. Be.
tween these monsters, life was passed.
Infinite consequences were predicted
Of the smallest action, and q burden
greater than q god could bear, was
placed upon the heart and brain oI
every child. To think, to ask ques.
tions, to doubt, to investigate, were
acts Of rebellion. To express pity fol
the lost, writhing In the dungeons be.
low. was simply TO give evidence thai
the enemy Of souls had been at work
within their hearts.
In this atmosphere of theological
miasma, in this hideous dream Of su.
perstition, in this penitentiary. mora
and austere, this babe first saw the
imprisoned gloom.
The natural desires ungratified, tn,
laughter suppressed, the logic brow
beaten by authority, the humor frozer
by fear Of many generations-were in
this child, child destined to rend and
wreck the rrison walls.
Through the grated windows Of hi.
cell this child. this boy, this man
caught glimpses Of the outer world, q
fields and skies, New thoughts were
In his brain, new hopes within his
heart. Another heaven bent above
his life. There came revelation Of
the beautiful and real. Theology grew
mean and small.
Nature wooei and won and saved
this mighty soul.
Her countless hands were growinl
seeds within this tropic brain. Al
sights aud songs, all colors. forms and
fragments-were stored within the
treasury Of his mind. His thought,
were nodded by the graceful curves OF
streams, by winding paths In woods,
the charm Of quiet country roads, and
lanes grown indistinct with weeds
and grass-by vines that cling and
hide with leaf and flower the crumbl
ing wallis decay-by cattle standing
in the summer pools like statues o
content.
He saw with loving eyes the willow,
of the meadow streams grow red be
meath the glance of spring-the grasi
along the marsh's edge-the stir Of lif'
beneath the withered lesves-the mos
below the drip of snow-tbe flower,
that give their bosoms TO the frsl
south wind that wooes-the sad and
timid violets that only bear the gaze
of love from eyes half closed-ths
ferns, where fancy gives q thousand
forms with but a single plan-ths
green and sunny slopes enriched with
daisy's silver aud cowslip's gold.
As in the leafless woods some tire,
afiame with life stands like some rap
poet in the headless crowd, 80 stooe
this man among his fellow-men.
Heiloved the yellow autumn fields
the golden stacks the happy homes o
men, the orchards bending boughs
the summers flags of fame, tn
naples with transfgured leaves, tn
tender yellow Of the beech, the won
derous harmonies Of brown and gold
the vines where hang the clustered
spheres Of wit and mirth. He loved
the winter days, the whirl and drift
OF snow-sll forms OF frost-the rags
and fury OF the storm, when in the
forest, desolate and stripped, the
brave old pine towers green and
grand-a prophecy Of spring. Hs
heard the rythmic sound o.
natures busy strife, the hun
of bees. the murmur Of the streams
the sighs and lamentations Of the
winds, and ell the voices Of the sea
He loved the shores, the wales, tn,
crags and cliffs, the city's busy streets
the interpretive, silent plain, ih,
solemn splendors of the night, the sill
yer sea Of dawn, and evenings cloud
Of molten gold.
The love Of nature freed this lovinI
man.
Day by day the wrath and venge
ance faded from the sky-the Jewisl
God grew vague and dim-the threat
oftorture and eternal pain grew vulgs
and absurd, and all the miracles seem
ed strangely out Of place. They clat
the infinite in motley garb and gav'
to aureoled heads the cap and bells.
Touched by the pathos of all human
| life knowing the sbadoys that fall or